Words to change a Nation
by Willowstar23
Summary: Katniss gets picked for the 73rd Hunger games and isn't part of the star crossed lovers of district twelve, but does the revolution still happen? What happens after her games, do you ever really win? Previously called heart song. Non-canon. Katniss/cinna
1. Chapter 1

**Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games**.

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I'm standing closest to the stage in the eighteen year old section. This is my last year, my final reaping. This is the final day before I sign up to work in the mines. It's not even a full day really, I'll go after lunch and sign up.

I look towards the boys section. I can see Rory with the fourteen year olds. He's growing more and more everyday, sprouting up like a weed. Vick is further down with the twelve year olds. He was boasting to his siblings this morning about receiving an A on his maths test but his heart wasn't really in it, too nervous about the reaping. It's his very first.

I look to the crowd where I can see a weary Hazelle holding a five year old Posy. Posy looks worried, even at this young age she knows that whoever gets picked today isn't coming home. She knows that the chance that one of her brothers being one of the tributes is a very real possibility.

My eyes drift to the empty space next to them. Gale. My heart squeezes painfully. Kind, stubborn, angry Gale who risked his life everyday just to put food on the table for his family. In the end he'd paid the price.

It had been almost a year since that fateful day when the sirens went off in school signalling a mine collapse. It had been almost a year since they'd dragged Gale out of the rubble and on to my mothers kitchen table to be healed. Except my mother hadn't been there, she'd died from the fever that had swept through the district the winter before. I couldn't save him, I didn't know how. I tried everything I could think of but we both knew it was of no use. I was deluding myself thinking I could put off the inevitable.

He made me promise before he died, made me promise to look after his family, to make sure that I carried on if not for myself then for him and posy and Rory and Vick who'd come to love me like an older sister since I had spent nearly all of my time at their house since my mother had died and most of it there before that.

I was the sole provider for their family now. I went everyday before and after school to the woods to bring in all the food needed to feed the five of us. I had even started to take Rory to teach him what to do if the time came that I was no longer able to provide for them. He was getting quite good, nowhere near mine or Gale's skill but better than I thought he would be. It was a relief to share the burden with someone.

The speakers crackled and screeched before blaring to life with Effie Trinket's silly Capitol accented voice. She reminds me of a bird with all her incessant tweeting and chirping that she does, she never seems to stop. Her constant happiness at sending us in to the games to be slaughtered never ceases to confuse me. How can she be so happy at seeing all the children she gets to know murdered brutally and pointlessly on live television? If Gale was here he would tell me it's because she's from the Capitol, and that everyone in the Capitol is diabolically heartless. I don't like to believe that though, I like to believe that somewhere deep down she actually cares about all the lives she ends just by reaching into a bowl and reading them out. But then again, I am an expert at denial.

"Welcome, welcome to the annual 73rd hunger games!"

She carries on saying what a pleasure it is to be here when everyone knows she hates being stuck with district 12, the poorest district, the one without any excitement as nobody has won since Haymitch.

The mayor then makes his speech, the same speech as he does every year about the dark days and the thirteen districts rebelling and then the beginning of the hunger games. It's a speech written by the capitol and he just repeats it with the same bored and slightly nervous expression everyone else has on their face. He can't wait for this to be over but he can't help but think this is the last time he could see his child alive in person. Just because he's the mayor it doesn't give his daughter a free pass. He has just as much to lose as anyone else here, but he just has a significantly less chance of losing it than most.

Haymitch, the only living victor and the town drunk is currently on stage sitting next to Effie, muttering loudly and drunkenly to himself, looking around for his drink which he obviously didn't notice was confiscated by peacekeepers more than ten minutes ago. He eventually stands up to find it but ends up tripping on his chair and sends both himself and Effie tumbling off the back of the stage.

There are a few sniggers but the truth is it's painfully embarrassing to watch and the mayor rushes through the rest of his speech so fast that you can barely tell what he's saying. Not that it matters, nearly everyone knows it off by heart and hardly anyone was listening to it in the first place, they all have more pressing matters to think about.

Once Effie has climbed back on to the stage and tried to fix her hair, which looks worse than before as you can see wispy bits of dark blonde hair poking out of the front of the massive pale blue wig. The wig clashes horribly with the shiny orange dress but apparently the look is the height of fashion in the Capitol or else she wouldn't be wearing it.

"Happy hunger games, and may the odds be ever in your favour!" She exclaims less enthusiastically than usual showing her irritation at Haymitch.

"Ladies first!"

She quickly trots over to the girls bowl in her ridiculously tall high heels and plunges her hand into the bowl grabbing the first one she can before trotting her way back to the front of the stage.

"Katniss Everdeen!" She shouts.

Everything stops. No, it can't be me. It just can't. There are people with more slips in there than me. This is a mistake, it can't be real. This is just a nightmare and if I can just force myself to wake up then I'll be just at home in bed and this will all be forgotten. Wake up, wake up! Why can't I wake up!

"Katniss Everdeen?" She shouts again "come on dear don't be shy."

I'm in shock but I move forward obediently afraid of what will happen to me if I don't go, even if this is a dream. The crowd in front of me parts as I make my way through and I duck under the rope that acts as the barrier to separate the age groups.

My heart is pounding so loudly I'm sure all of Panem can hear it. My footsteps boom rhythmically as I make my way to the stage. Like the hands on a clock ticking slowly but surely with a measure of finality. This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real. I can't be reaped, they need me. Rory and Vick and posy need me. They can't survive without me and I promised Gale and I can't leave them. Who will tuck Posy in to bed and tell her stories and who will teach Rory how to hunt. This has to be a mistake, maybe she read my name by accident.

I can't leave them, they need me and maybe if I just explained that to them or if I could just _wake_. _up_. This is all a dream and ... This is real. I'm at the bottom of the steps to the stage and I'm climbing them and this is real. I'm going to the Capitol to be killed, to be brutally murdered on live television and this is real. I'm going to die. People are going to cheer. I'm signing my own death warrant and I don't want to be here, I want to be in the woods with Gale and joking and laughing... But Gales dead and I'm here alone and if I ran I wouldn't get more than five feet never mind the five miles that we'd once talked about.

"Well well aren't you a pretty one." She chirps cheerfully looking up at me.

Despite what many think I'm not stupid or naive. I know I'm beautiful. I'm not vain it's just a fact. My father used to say I had my mothers beauty but his colouring and I can't say I disagree. Everyone I've ever met that knew my mother when she was younger talked about how beautiful she once was, most beautiful girl in all of district twelve.

I get many looks from the boys in school and men around the district as I pass. I'm not a traditional beauty, not blone haired and blue eyed like my mother and the people from town or even from all the girls they show on TV that are from district two. With my dark skin and heavy lidded grey eyes the colour of storm clouds complete with my long black wavy hair I'm more sultry and sexy than anything else.

She cranes her head to get a good look at me before nodding in approval. She's obviously pleased that she's got someone aesthetically pleasing this year, although I can tell she disapproves of my outfit which isn't up to her capitol standards.

As she reads out the boys name I'm not even paying attention. My face shows no emotion and it hasn't since my name was called out. I can't show weakness. I can't let them think they've won already, so I stare straight ahead and try to focus on something that doesn't remind me that I'm a tribute and that I'm leaving the only place I've ever known, because if I start to think about that then I'll start to panic and then ... Effie Trinket is smaller than me. It suddenly pops in to my head and I hold on to it like a lifeline. If I focus on only this then maybe I can make it until I'm off stage to breakdown.

I got my height from my dad. He was tall at 6'3 and I stand at 5'10. Effie Trinket can't be more than 5'7 with her outrageously high shoes on so she has to look up at me even though I'm wearing boots with no heel at all. I've been able to eat better these last few years as I'm not constantly giving half my portion to Prim to eat instead. This means I've reached closer to what my natural height would be than I would have if she had lived.

Extra calcium from the goat milk and protein from the meat of the animals I shot made my bones grow bigger and my body develop more healthily. I didn't care though, a few extra inches and a larger more feminine figure meant little to me. I had no use for it. I was never going to get married or fall in love or have kids so it didn't matter what I looked like. I would rather look like a wild dogs behind and have her here with me than have her dead. I miss her. I hope she's with my family and Gale. I hope they're waiting for me, I might be joining them soon.

The unfortunate boy that has been picked to be sent to certain death with me is standing on the other side of Effie, and when we're told to shake hands I actually have to bend my knees a little bit.

He's a tiny twelve year old town boy. He has to be the smallest weakest looking twelve year old I've ever seen and big fat tears are rolling down his rosy cheeks. His hand seems lost in mine, and I think about this boy, about how he's probably going to get killed in the bloodbath, or starve for a few days first before being tourchered by careers.

What if I'm the one to kill him, what if it comes between me and him and I have to face him and what if I can't, what if I can, what if I'm the one to see the light fade from his eyes, if I kill him I won't be able to live with myself and then ... Effie trinket is smaller than me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer; Suzanne Collins owns the hunger games.**

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As it turns out I don't have to kill Henry the little boy from my district. He's killed early on by the careers, straight after the bloodbath. I didn't know this until I got out, until then I thought he'd died in the bloodbath. It would have been a blessing, a quick death in comparison to the 14 stab wounds he received. When they played the recaps on TV I couldn't bare to watch.

When I was was taken inside the justice centre to say my goodbyes I started to shake. Mainly from the fear and the nerves and when the Hawthornes walked in to the room Hazelle ran over to me straight away and wrapped me in the biggest hug she could. I felt like a toddler as she sat down on one of the benches with me in her lap and rocked me like you would a fitful baby. I didn't complain though, I needed it. I needed to be told everything would be ok. I needed for once not to be the adult and let someone else shoulder the burden, even if only for a few minutes. For so long I'd had to be the responsible one looking after every one and it had been nice to just act like a child.

When I started to sob great big gasping breaths, Posy climbed upon to the bench besides me and hugged me with all her five year old might.

"Don't be sad" she said, "you'll come back. You will won't you Katniss? Promise."

I kissed her forehead, not wanting to make any commitments I couldn't keep. She knew though, that I probably wasn't coming back. I think she was trying to convince herself more than me.

I climbed out of Hazelle's lap feeling slightly calmer than before and hugged Rory and Vick. They both had tears running down their faces but I could tell they were trying it be strong for their mother and sister. I have to gently unwind Vicks arms from around my neck when the guards come to take me away. It breaks my heart to leave them. This will be my last memory of them, and I think I'm going to break down all over again.

"Love you" I whisper gently to them and they nod tearily back, unable to speak to say the words. I don't say anything to Rory about hunting because its unnecessary. He knows what to do and where all of my bows and supplies are hidden in the woods. I know he'll try to make me proud. I wipe my eyes and scrub the tear tracks from my cheeks. I will not give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

This ends up being my mantra throughout the walk to the train station and my brief time on the platform before I board. All they will see is a girl who is not afraid to play their stupid games.

When I meet Cinna for the first time he surprises me. I was expecting him to be well ... More Capitol I suppose. After meeting my prep team who resemble brightly coloured birds I was expecting him to look completely outlandish but when he walks in he is, well _normal_.

He doesn't tell me how great the Capitol is or how honoured I should be to be here. Instead he's quiet and gently comments on how despicable they all must seem to me. At first I'm not sure if he's joking with me or not, trying to catch me out and hand me over to the peacekeepers for speaking out against the Capitol.

It's not until later that night that I know he's genuine. He puts on my jumpsuit that he tells me will be lit with artificial fire, when he takes my hand and squeezes. "Just look at me" he says looking deep into my eyes, "don't focus on them, just look at me. I'll be in to top box near the presidential mansion, so if you just look towards that then you'll be fine. Don't let them see your fear."

When the chariots drag us out to parade us about the square people go wild. I don't focus on the people or the noise. I keep my face blank and look at some point above their heads, which is hard because the crowds go on for miles. I can't bear to look at their cheering happy faces because if I look that's how I'll imagine them when I die, cheering and baying for my blood.

Henry looks even tinier next to me with my headdress on and these killer heels Cinna put me in. The stylists worked together for the opening ceremonies so we are both dressed similarly. Compared to me though Henry looks pitiful. A weak flame that won't be hard to snuff out.

In training I keep to myself. I don't talk to anyone or make a spectical of myself on the archery range which most seem to avoid. I go quietly and diligently around the survival stands, making sure I visit all the ones I think will be useful, following Haymitch's advice.

"Don't show them what you can do until the private session, then you have the advantage and they won't know your what you can do. If you don't draw attention to yourself people will forget about you, the careers will forget about you and then you'll live longer in the arena."

I don't know why I trust him but I do. I remember my mother talking about him once and she said that he helped protect her friend when she was in the games, and even when they'd broken the alliance not five minutes earlier when he heard her screams, he ran to help. "Not many care to remember, but they killed his family. He had a little brother and his mother and a girlfriend and they hung them all in the square." When I had asked why she had only said that he made them look stupid, that he'd defied the Capitol when he came out of the arena so they punished him.

I don't have any family for them to punish but I don't take any chances. I'd told Hazelle what to collect from my house that I wanted them to have in case I didn't come home. I'd told them once about what my mother had told me and Hazelle had said she remembered that Haymitch was once quite handsome. Me and Gale had discussed what they wanted Haymitch to do when he came out of the games and he suggested maybe they wanted to make him like Finnick Odair. Though highly unlikely, we decided that if one of us was reaped the other and their family would seem distant and at most like friendly neighbours so that they couldn't be used against us. We had told our family and eventually they had agreed to our reasoning.

For my private session I make sure to shoot arrow after arrow at the target always dead on until they tell me to leave. They don't pay much attention to me, too bothered with their stupid roast. I really, really, really want to shoot the apple out of the stupid pigs mouth but I refrain, chanting what Haymitch had said over and over again until my time was up, 'don't draw attention'.

I had already known before I had reached the Capitol what angle Haymitch would most likely have me presenting. With my dark skin tone and looks I was supposed to be dark and mysterious, which I was told I didn't really need any help with.

Caesar does most of the talking and I nod when I'm supposed to nod and answer in one or two word answers. It's great for me because I hate talking to people that I don't know or just people in general. Despite my mother, sister and even my father being social butterflies I'm not a social person and don't mind silence and being by myself.

Losing my family and Gale had made me a much more reclusive person than I was when they were alive and unless I'm asked a direct question that needs a verbal answer I hardly ever talk at all.

The arena is a mountain range and has a large pine forest growing over parts of it. Not too far from the cornucopia there's a lake surrounded by trees on the other side. It's not the only source of water though as I soon find out and there's many cool springs and streams running down the mountain side. At night it drops to below freezing. Ironic that the girl on fire would be put in an arena full of ice and snow. Despite running to the woods straight from my podium I manage to pick up a rucksack that has some food, an empty bottle with a smaller bottle of iodine and some rope, wire and a sleeping bag.

Surprisingly Haymitch's plan works and the first few days are uneventful for me. Around the end of week one I make an ally in a little girl from eleven called Rue who had miraculously scored a 7 in training. We spend most of the time in the trees talking or eating some of the rabbits I catch in my snares. I didn't manage to get the bow at the cornucopia but I did manage to get some sharp knives.

Rue dies a couple of days later when she goes to scout the area and gets caught in a careers trap. The trap's a shallow hole in the ground with a lot of sharp wooden spikes in the bottom. It was covered over with a few leaves and branches so when she stepped on it she fell right through. I hear her scream and run to help her, but in the end I only manage to hold her and sing to her as she dies.

I'm alone in the area now but just looking down at her innocent face made it so much more real. That could have been me, it should have been me. She had a family and lots of little siblings that need feeding, she should have been the one to win. My family is dead. There's going to be no one to cheer for me at the station when I get home, only people that I don't know.

I pull her out of the trap and lay her down on the frozen ground. There aren't any flowers to cover her in, which is was what I'd have done if there had been, so I take her token from her backpack which she'd put it in for safe keeping and press it in to her palm and kiss her brow. I then walk away, leaving her looking like she was almost sleeping.

The rest of the games are a blur, I get some bread from district eleven which I thank them for. It's covered in moons and the dough tastes good and fills my stomach.

I get in to a couple of scuffles with a few of the other tributes and receive a nasty gash on my leg as I manage to stab the male tribute from 9 in the stomach before getting away. I later learn that he bled out a few hours later. His death was put down as my kill, but it doesn't really feel like that because I didn't watch him die and I didn't even know that I'd killed him until watching the recaps. I killed him but he was going to kill me. If I keep that repeating in my head I can almost not feel any guilt over his death.

In the end though it comes down to me and district two. We're both severely injured so it's just who's going to last the longest and fortunately, or unfortunately depending how you look at it, that person is me.

That was two weeks ago, it's been five since I was reaped.

I'm looking in the mirror, looking at myself, looking at how different I seem when Cinna walks in. The prep team had just been in a few minutes before to freshen me up though I don't know why, because I'm not going anywhere. My final interview in the Capitol isn't for two days yet.

It's the first time I've seen myself since I've woken up from the surgery I had to go through for them to fix me up. I look ... Different, damaged. There are 3 vivid red scars that go down the right side of my face starting at my hairline. Thankfully they miss my eye, but they carry on past my chin, along the side of my neck and chest before curling just before my breast and heading off towards my side and disappearing. Claw marks.

There are more on my right leg, they cut diagonally across the top of my thigh and there are some small circular marks on my torso where it's claws sunk in to my stomach. My left leg has been amputated. Apparently there are some things that the Capitol can't fix. They said it got infected and they had to take it off. Despite the medicine it still throbs. I can feel my leg aching and it hurts even though it's not there. The doctors say it's phantom pain and my body just hasn't got around to realising my leg is not there any more.

I think of my woods and how I'll never be able to tread through them again, about how I'll never be able to walk to the lake and take a swim. The terrain is rough in the woods and I can barely walk across a flat surface without tripping or using crutches that go up under my arms to help me walk. Without knowing it the doctors and Snow have punished me already. They've made me a prisoner in my own district and I _hate_ them for it.

The doctors say I will get used to walking with a prosthetic leg and that eventually I will be able to walk without the crutches like a normal person. I don't believe them. With every step I take I'm painfully aware of how loud I am and that if I was in the woods I would have scared away all the animals within a five mile radius. My life will never be the same, although it wouldn't have been anyway, even I had gotten to keep my leg.

Cinna gives me a silk gown to cover up with and leads me to one of the nearby sofas. He pulls me into a hug. That's the thing I like about Cinna, he always seems to know what I need. We don't need to talk for the sake of talking or have this need to fill the silence with nonsensical chatter like Effie does.

"You'll be alright, you're still my girl on fire, you're still beautiful."

And that's what scares me. I know I'm damaged and scarred and missing one leg, but I still look like me. I'm still the dark and mysterious Katniss.

Since I've woken up Haymitch has sat me down and explained to me that Snow will probably invite me into his office and ask me to do something and that if I fail to comply he will kill everyone I care about. I already know this of course, me and Gale had guessed as much.

"What do you think he'll want with me?" I had asked quietly afraid to hear the answer.

Haymitch looked at me with pity. "Probably sell you."

"Sell me?"

"Yeah, it's ridiculous how much people pay for a night with a victor. He does it to remind us that nobody really wins. To remind us that he _owns_ us."

It finally dawned on me what he meant. "You mean I'll be like Finnick O'dair?"

"Yeah, like Finnick, sold to the highest bidder."

Since that night I'd been doing a lot of thinking. Of what I would say to him when I saw him, what he would say to me. It was all I could think about.

I kiss Cinna softly on the lips. He draws back confused. "Katniss?"

"I - I know what will happen ... W-when snow calls me into his office and I don't ... I've never ... I don't want it to be them."

At first I'm afraid that he'll refuse, that he'll be disgusted with me for even asking, or worse he'll laugh at me for being a virgin. I look into his eyes silently begging him to agree.

Suddenly I can see understanding dawn on his face. He knows now what I'm asking. I'm asking him to be my first so that I don't have to have my first time with some Capitol stranger who's won the highest bid. "Oh Katniss" he breathes. "Are you sure, with me? Isn't there anyone else that could-"

"-no, there's no one else. I trust you."

He sighs deeply and rubs his temple before looking at me, _really_ looking at me. I feel as though he's looking in to my soul, looking for any hesitation or any sign that this isn't what I want.

I'm relieved that he hasn't yet said no.

He plays with the collar of my gown before slowly slipping it off my shoulders so that it falls and pools around my waist. I can feel the heat from his hands as he places them on my shoulders for a few moments and I shiver. Gently sliding them down my arms, he lightly runs his thumbs over the swell of my breasts before his hands drop to rest at my hips.

He takes a deep breath.

"Okay" he says as he rests his for head against mine. "Okay."

"Thank you" I whisper.

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**AN. grammar has been fixed in this chapter but if you see any mistakes please tell me. I have had a few people wanting me to continue this story so chapter 3 will hopefully be uploaded by the 1st of December. Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins owns the hunger games.**

**AN**. Sorry this is late guys. I do hope to get the next chapter up before christmas though. Hope you enjoy.

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**~ Peeta**

Today is the victors interview for the 73rd hunger games. Normally it wouldn't be such a big event, but this year someone from district twelve won. This year, Katniss Everdeen who I've had a crush on ever since I can remember, won the hunger games.

The interview has already been delayed for more than two weeks and I worry about how injured she actually is. Usually victors have their interviews from a couple of days to a week after winning their games, depending on how injured they are. Katniss's interview has already been delayed longer than any other victors in the history of the games and the Capitol people are starting to become restless.

At the moment they keep re-running all tributes deaths in slow motion and calling experts up to explain medically everything that happened as they died. It makes me sick, and seeing as though they aren't mandatory, I turn them off.

Just as people were starting to speculate that she might of died, an announcement was made that the interview would be today. Suddenly all attention was off of the fallen tributes and turned to what Katniss would be wearing on the big night. More flames perhaps?

"Ugh that stupid Seam slut, she should have died and let that nice boy from two win, she supposedly didn't want to win anyway. Nasty liar, they're all after money her lot are. Filthy beggars, taking people's good earned money."

Me and my brother Rye both raise our eyebrows at each other at this statement. My father just frowns at her.

"Marigold you don't mean that" he says, but we all know she does.

It is true though, not about being a filthy gold digging slut, but about the part where she didn't want to win.

I remember it being aired live at the mandatory watching time. They had shown clips of what had happened that day to catch the people who couldn't watch during the day up and then they had cut to the live feed from the arena. They had shown the career pack first, then some of the other solitary tributes and then Katniss and Rue.

They had shown footage of that surprising alliance the previous day and the commentators had speculated on whether Katniss was trying to lure Rue in to a false sense of security before killing her or not. Alliances made between districts that didn't produce careers were a rare thing and most of the commentators didn't know what to think about the teaming up of a tiny twelve year old from eleven and a could be career from twelve. People from twelve knew though, that for whatever reason Katniss had chosen to protect Rue, it wasn't for any sinister plot.

One thing did become apparent though and that was that they were exact opposites. Where Katniss barely spoke a word, Rue couldn't shut up.

_"-and then they both ended up on the floor and my mum said if they didn't behave she wouldn't read them a bedtime story." She laughs for a moment but then turns serious. "I-I don't want to die, I don't want them to watch me die... I'm scared."_

_"You shouldn't be afraid of death Rue. Dying is easy, it's the living that's the hard part." Katniss says. It obviously surprises Rue as she jumps at the sound of Katniss's voice._

_Rue wrinkles her forehead and scrunches up her nose. "What do you mean?"_

_Katniss however, doesn't elaborate._

_Rue waits for a moment before asking another question. "What about you Katniss, tell me something about you."_

_Katniss stays quiet, her attention solely on the animal she skinning._

_"Welllllll, what about your friends and family? Aren't you exited about maybe meeting them? What are they like?"_

_At Rue's words Katniss's hands still. She stares at the knife in her hand and at first I'm not sure she's going to answer, but then she opens her mouth._

_"My dad died when I was eleven... in a mine explosion" she clarifies. "My little sister died a few weeks later, she starved to death, there wasn't enough food. I would give her my portion but in the end it wasn't enough." She looks up from the knife and straight at Rue. "My mother died two years ago in the epidemic that spread across twelve and my friends... My best friend Gale died in a mine collapse last year... It's how we met actually, a mine accident." She pulls at a stray thread on her trousers. "Our fathers were killed in the same mine collapse and we were both the eldest children. We became the main breadwinners of our family's. I don't have any friends, I don't have any family. I don't want to die, but if I did... I wouldn't mind so much."_

_Rue looks pained "what about people at the group home, won't they miss you?" She's grasping at straws and it's sort of sweet to see her try to find someone that will miss Katniss._

_"I live alone. In district twelve there are so many orphans from the mines and poverty that the group home is overflowing. If you're over fifteen you're on your own."_

_Suddenly she gets up and mumbles something about finding dry wood for a fire._

_It's painfully apparent that the conversation is over._

The Panem anthem blares and my attention is drawn to the television in front of me. Ceasar Flickerman appears on the screen and starts to joke around with the audience. Nobody in our house is laughing though. For the rest of Panem, they just want the hunger games to be over for the year. They want to go back to their lives and pretend that they don't exist. I can't blame them, I'm guilty of doing it myself.

At exactly six o'clock Caesar announces that it's finally time for what everybody's been waiting for.

"I'd like you to welcome back to the stage katniiiiissss Everdeeeennn!"

The crowd goes in the Capitol goes wild and my father actually turns the volume down a bit.

When Katniss appears at the edge of the stage it's obvious why the interview has been delayed. As Katniss slowly makes her way to the sofas she leans heavily on the crutches that are under her arms. The right side of her face is covered by bright red scars the mutt left and it's obvious as she walks she's in pain. She looks tired and a lot older than her eighteen years.

Caesar obviously seeing her struggle to get across stage makes light of it with the Capitol audience by telling a few jokes about helping lady's to their seats and gets up to help her. By the time she sits down in the sofa opposite Caesar she's out of breath and has a light sheen of sweat across her face. My dad makes a noise of sympathy.

As Caesar starts to talk about her victory I can see her try and rub her left leg discreetly. She's not as discreet as she hoped though because Caesar notices and tells everyone about her amputated leg.

This time I wince. Everybody in district twelve knows that Katniss spends most of her time in the woods, with her leg now gone she will probably never be able to do that again. My heart aches for her and the families in the seam that buy the meat she sells cheaply. Even _I'll_ miss her squirrels.

The same as with her first interview Caesar does most of the talking and she just nods or shakes her head. Eventually they show all of the tribute deaths again and the key points in the games but this year instead of asking the tributes what they are planning to do with their victory money and spare time, they show another clip.

_"What would you do if you won?" Rue asks._

_Katniss shrugs._

_"I'd buy all my siblings some new clothes and then head down to the bakery and buy the biggest chocolate cake they had and share it with all of them."_

_Katniss's lips twitch in amusement._

_Rue looks back at Katniss excitedly "so, what would you do?"_

_Katniss rolls her eyes and sighs but then she thinks about it. "Buy a piano" she says eventually._

_"A piano? What's that?"_

_Katniss smiles "it's a musical instrument. You can create music with it. We used to have one when I was younger and my dad taught me how to play it. It was old and falling apart and a few of the keys were missing but I loved it. We would just sit there for hours playing different songs until our fingers ached and cramped." Her eyes glaze over as she gets lost in the memory._

_"What happened to it?"_

_"I have no idea. I haven't played in years though. I would probably have to relearn everything. That's if I could find another piano, I know ours was the only one in the district and it was over 200 years old."_

_"Oh... Well if you win I hope you get your piano."_

_Katniss sighs and ruffles he'd hair. "Go to sleep, I'll keep watch."_

When the clip finishes Katniss looks confused.

"Well ladies and gentlemen it did take a lot of research but we were able to find out what a piano was and get one made especially for miss Everdeen here"

"Happy hunger games" Caesar shouts as a large shiny strange looking table with a lift up lid is wheeled on to the stage. Katniss's face holds a look of shock.

"Don't worry we found somebody to 'tune' it." Apparently this means something to Katniss as she nods absentmindedly.

"Why don't you go have a closer look?"

Katniss glances from her seat to the seat in front of the piano and bites her lip before making her face blank and heaving herself on to her crutches. While she slowly limps her way over to the 'piano' Caesar keeps the audience entertained with the latest capitol gossip.

When she eventually sits down at the piano stool she runs her fingers over the keys reverently.

"Go on, why don't you play something for us Katniss" Caesar interrupts from where he's sitting on the sofas.

She looks back at him embarrassed and it doesn't take a genius to know that she really doesn't want to.

"Just a little song katniss" he encourages and because she really can't say no on live television, she presses her fingers down on the keys.

What comes out isn't a song but a very old ear piercing shriek. Everyone in the audience winces and my mother scoffs.

"Sorry" she whispers, her dark skin holding a slight tinge of red. Caesar jokes about the noise and then nods for her to continue. She plays more gently now, softly touching the keys to make a simple tune. She fumbles a couple of times but continues through the song until the last note.

When it is clear the song has finished Caesar claps politely and smiles, although he doesn't quite manage to conceal his disappointment that she didn't play anything better. Just when he starts to speak however, she starts to play another song.

This tune is much faster and much more complicated than the last one and the longer she plays it the more confident she gets until suddenly the song morphs into something even capital music machines could never even hope to replicate. You can hear every note clear and precise and the way she strings them together makes it seem as though the music is alive. I can almost feel the music twisting and dancing around me and cocooning me in its calming embrace. I close my eyes and let the music wash over me. I feels as though the music is caressing my very soul. If she makes any mistakes in this song, nobody notices. Everything is quiet and even my mother, who always has something scornful to say about an Everdeen, is completely silent.

When the camera crew come out of their shock they zoom in on Katniss. Her eyes are closed and she sways slightly with the music. She looks the most relaxed she has done all evening. The camera pans down to her hands and I watch, mesmerised as her hand fly over the keys.

Never before have I heard something so beautiful and it's clear when the song comes to a close and she plays the last note, that nobody else has either. Everything everywhere is silent. Even the birds outside have stopped singing. Eventually Caesar starts to clap, his grin almost splitting his face in half. The crowd then start to roar with praise and it's a long time before they calm down.

"Wow" Rye says from next to me "who knew Katniss Everdeen was capable of ...well...that!"

"Yeah" I whisper in reply, even though I'm fully aware that Katniss has many talents most people in this district don't know about. One of them being her voice.

As the audience begins to chant for more the buzzer goes off and Caesar informs the now booing crowd that unfortunately the interview is over. Caesar manages to get one last cheer for Katniss before the lights go out and the Panem symbol flashes on the screen signifing the end of mandatory viewing.


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N **

**Sorry for the year long wait! I had a severe case of writers block for this chapter. Thanks for the amazing review derderxp! As usual the hunger games belongs to Suzanne Collins and I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

When the end of interview buzzer goes off I stay seated, reluctant to start the gruelling walk back to where my wheelchair sits off screen at the side of the stage. Instead I close my eyes and imagine my father is with me now. I try to create his face, the angle of his cheekbones and the kindness in his eyes. Then I sigh, because all that I manage to create is a mangled blur. His voice is even starting to fade from my memory.

I feel a light tap on my shoulder and I look up in to the face of a ginger haired avox. She gestures towards the chair in front of her and I smile gratefully.

"Thank you" I whisper, my voice so soft, that I can barely hear it myself. The avox though, just nods.

I push her hands away when she tries to help me in to the chair. I am determined that this is something that the Capitol, cannot take from me. They will not take my independence. I am not an ant to be crushed under president Snow's boot. My seam pride will not allow it. So even though by the time I manage to get into the chair myself I'm utterly exhausted and my arms shake and my leg throbs even more painfully than before, I feel a sense of accomplishment, the tiny flame in my heart that had almost been snuffed out by the games and their aftermath flickers a little bit brighter, a little bit stronger.

Haymitch comes to wheel me back to the training centre and as the lift takes us up to the twelfth floor, we don't speak. Haymitch Abernathy, who is usually a fountain of dry witty sarcastic remarks doesn't even open his mouth.

It should make me nervous, but at the moment I'm too tired to care. All I want to do is crawl under the covers of my ridiculously oversized bed and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist. I want to take my handful of pills and not be able to feel the crippling, stabbing pain that is shooting up my thigh from my scared stump. I just want to be numb. I wonder if Haymitch gets the same effect from the copious amounts of alcohol he drinks.

We stop when Haymitch reaches the door of my room, but he doesn't make any move to open it. He stares blankly at the door until Cinna arrives and gently removes Haymitch's hands and replaces them with his own.

"It's ok, I've got her."

Haymitch sighs and grunts. "Nothing to do now I suppose other than wait."

"Yeah."

I think they're talking about my meeting with Snow, but in my half asleep state I can't really be sure.

"Best get her in bed before Effie gets here otherwise she'll never manage to get any sleep."

"Are you okay?" Cinna asks.

"Yeah... Just that, just that..."

"It was beautiful" cinna whispers.

"Yeah"

The next thing I'm vaguely aware of is gentle hands pulling down the zipper of my dress and pushing the straps off of my shoulders. It must be Cinna, but before I think to ask I'm already dead to the world.

When I wake I'm staring up at the ceiling of my room on the twelfth floor of the training centre. The bright light of the sun stings my sensitive eyes and I turn towards the window, intending reaching the dial to turn the clear missile proof glass into an image of a forest. It's not my forest, probably taken of the dense evergreen trees in seven, but calms me and at least I don't have to look out at the sickeningly extravagant skyline of the Capitol.

When the light in the room dims I roll back over onto my back and sigh as I sink back into the mattress. Every muscle aches. I decide that moving isn't worth the pain, so I just lay there, counting the marks and imperfections on the white paint of the ceiling. There aren't many, which is probably better as I have to look harder for them, focusing all my attention. At least my eyesight is still just as keen, not that it matters much anymore.

'No', I stop myself before my thoughts go down that track. I know if I do it will be like a runaway train going off a cliff edge. I doubt Haymitch has the patience to bring me down from another panic attack and Cinna is busy today, he mentioned something about getting a head start on victory tour dresses yesterday.

When I reach the 23rd ceiling flaw, a darker streak where two brush strokes have overlapped creating a darker shade of white, I stop.

23.

23 is the number of children that had to die for me to live.

23 children brutally murded all for some sick form of entertainment.

23 families destroyed from grief and loss.

23 grieving mothers, ending up just as broken and distant as my own.

23 children who actually had family's to back to.

23-

"- up up up, it's a big big _big_ day today!"

Ugh, I pull the downy quilt over my head to block out some of her revolting happiness.

"Come on Katniss" she says as she rips the covers off of me and grabs my arms to yank me out of bed. "President Snow had decided meet with you today, isn't that exciting?"

I give her a scathing look to show just how excited I am to meet our esteemed president, but she doesn't take any notice.

"You're meeting with him after lunch and its already half past ten. Not nearly enough time to get ready of course, but if we rush, you still might make a somewhat decent impression to him. First impressions are everything!" She says as if it's some sacred secret that she's decided to divulge.

I don't bother saying that over two hours is definitely long enough to get ready, and that president snow has already seen me and gathered a first, second and probably dozens of impressions already, because I'd be wasting my breath and I really _really_ don't care.

Instead I let her drag me around and at some point she puts me in a dress that's at least five times more expensive than anything the merchant girls in town would own. With Effies fashion sense I would be worried that I'd be dressed in something hideous and garish like her, but I know that everything in my wardrobe was designed and made by Cinna, so everything will look perfect on me.

When she finally deems me fit to be seen by the public, she wheels me down to have lunch in the dining room. She pushes me up to our usual table, and leaves me in the empty space that has been created for my chair.

I must get lost in aimless thoughts, because the next thing I hear is a voice nearby.

"... Think she's brainless. Ha brainless. Yo brainless."

"Brainless!" A female voice shouts right in my ear. I jerk my head away from the loud noise and my neck jars. I wince and turn towards a brash brown haired woman.

"Finally! I thought you'd lost your brain as well as your leg!"

"Joanna" another man titters in admonishment as everyone takes thier seats.

There are six other people sat at the table other than Effie, Haymitch and cinna. I recognise most of them as victors. Finnick Odair with his bronze hair and 'swoon-worthy' smile, Joanna mason the axe-wielding maniac that screamed in my ear, the guy with the missing hand who Haymitch usually gets drunk with and a seem skinny man that I think is from either 6, 5 or 8. Joining us is the most ancient woman I've ever seen and the man who disapproved of Joanna.

We make small talk for a while over the scraping of plates. And when I say we I mean them. Eventually Effie butts in with just how 'wonderful' it is to have so many victors dining at one table and 'Didn't Katniss do well!'. She goes on and on about finally getting a winner and how all of her friends are jealous and 'just think of how many sponsors I'll get next year!' Apparently the whole capital is simply 'buzzing' about my interview last night. 'Oh Katniss it was phenomenal and so... _district_!" Haymitch snorts in to his meal. I try to tune her out until that doesn't become an option.

"_Oh_ and isn't it wonderful! You'll be able to wear heels now Katniss! Before you were so ridiculously tall and clumsy in them, but now it won't matter because you'll be sitting down!"

At the remark all the moving cutlery around the table stops, like somebody pressed the pause button for one of the big fancy capitol TVs. Everyone turns to look at her in shock but I'm so angry, I clench my my hand around my fork until it shakes with the tension and the nails digging in to my palm draw blood. Another hand firmly grips my own, probably to stop me from doing something stupid like beating my escort to death.

Because it's Effie she doesn't notice the mood at the table and continues to chatter away and eat her ridiculously expensive tart fruit, with that tiny fucking silver fork.

"See Katniss, there's no need to be upset about having your leg removed, it's a good thing, think of how many shoes you'll be able to wear! Sparkle Sunglove is an amazing designer, if we get there first I'm sure she'd be honoured to have you showcase her new collection! They'd look just fabulous on you!"

"Every cloud contains an emerald!"

It's all I can do not to plunge the fork right in to her face.

I shove away from the table causing some of the soup in the bowls to slop over the edge and on to the table cloth. The chair wheels make barely a sound against the floors carpet so Effie only notices when I ram my chair back in to hers to get some more space.

"Katniss?" She looks up at me confused but still with that stupid smile on her face. "What are you doing?"

I don't answer as I unclip my fake leg and hop from the room.

It's Finnick who finds me. He doesn't say anything for a long while, we just sit in silence. Him sitting on the edge of the roof, me on the floor leaning against the side of the green house.

Eventually he sighs and tells me that snow will be waiting. I try to get up, but with fiasco at dinner I forgot to take my meds and the lancing pain through my thigh from the stump, makes me let out a sharp cry.

Finnick doesn't comment and instead pulls me up on to his back to give me a piggy back ride. I feel like I'm 7, but I'm in too much agony to complain.

Haymitch meets us at outside Snow's office doors with my wheelchair and a handful of pills, which he puts to my mouth for me to swallow.

He wheels me past snows secretary towards the big brown doors where two peacekeepers wait. Haymitch doesn't need to say good luck, with Snow there are only ever varying degrees of unlucky. I know he cares though, because he brought me my painkillers.

One of the peacekeepers opens the doors while the other pushes me inside. President Snow sits there behind his desk, signing some paper work. When he looks up I get a first hand look in to those cruel ice blue eyes, that shine with malice and the promise of a lifetime of despair. I am awake but sill trapped in a nightmare.

I take a deep breath and count back from three.


End file.
